Borne of Animosity
by Alurane
Summary: The Arrancar called Felix Benedikt is a slave for the powers he possessed, and although being one of the most powerful of all Arrancar, he possesses one fatal flaw: he regained his emotions. Follow his adventures throughout the dimensions.


Borne of Animosity

BLEACH

By Alurane

This light.

He hated it.

Honestly, he had hated everything that had happened to him in his life, and he would probably hate everything that came with the afterlife as well. He had never cared much for humanity, with the ways the mocked him for his strange interests, his intelligent, logician's speech, his blunt reasoning, hatred of ignorance, hatred of _everyone _and that utter need for him to be absolutely and completely _perfect –_ it angered him that people did not understand the simple message he had conveyed: _"Do not talk to me. Do not befriend me. Do not even think about me. You will only slow me down on this road of thorns."_

His parents had told him it would be the death of him, the way he talked to so many people the way he did – how he didn't care for their own flawed opinions, how he didn't believe their own misguiding of gentleness and love and all of those _accursed_ emotions that they believed would help him gain his footing. He did not require them, nor did he wish to utilize them. He knew that with so little luggage, even on the mind, he could move faster, more effectively.

He had never talked much in his social life, preferring the company of books beyond those of any of his peers, the glory of the internet, and his own vigorous studies. He took to them with the only sort of emotion he had in his life, and even that was not much. He had learned them all too quickly, and soon that spark of joy, that one whimsical flare in his soul, died out, and he began to live as he always had.

His appearance reflected his personality: his black hair was unkempt, although he forced it out of the way of his glasses, showing off dull, green eyes. A blank, emotionless, unkind sort of stare seemed to be sauntered onto his thin face. He was garbed in mostly black; black jacket, black dress pants and a completely unexpected crisp, white shirt with a black tie. For the most part, it seemed to reflect the look of a soulless, evil, Japanese corporation owner. However, to be a soulless, evil Japanese corporation owner, you need to be flashy, annoying, uncaring and always yelling at someone, or being all around angry.

He didn't feel anger, he never felt imposed to be all around flashy and annoying and preppy of all things, and although he was uncaring, yelling towards somebody who he clearly knew was a lost cause was a waste of time. Of _his_ time.

This was always the way Felix Benedikt had acted his entire life, from birth to now. Although he was uncaring, he still felt a tinge – only a small tinge – of curiosity tug on his mind. The _thing _that had killed him, whatever it was, was certainly not human. Certainly not. Then again, how would he know? Remembrance brought back memories. Memories brought luggage. Luggage brought emotions.

Emotions were bad.

This light began to glow ever brighter, and Felix felt inclined to bathe himself in its warmth, to give in and fill himself with this light. It would have been so much easier for him to just give into that sense of wanting, of desire. But he was not like other, greedier, foolish sheep, was he? No, of course not. He simply stood and stared deep into its banks that now constantly overlapped each other, swallowing each of their fellow waves in seconds before being swallowed themselves. A perfect analogy for humans, for everyone, he should think.

He noticed the light was growing ever larger, but that did not draw any sort of attention to him. It did not deserve his concern, neither his action. As the light began to envelope him, he felt his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, but this still did not feel the urge to act. Even if he had, nothing would escape this light. Was this not the gateway to the afterlife, for a passed on soul like himself?

When he finally felt his eyelids close, he knew it was time to go. He simply fell, fell into this light headfirst, and let it all just stop. The light turned to dark, and he left the plane of the conscious, unheard, unknown and, almost strangely enough, grinning.

For a moment, the darkness felt so comforting to Felix. It felt as though he had finally gotten his wish, his wish for eternal silence, where the only words he heard were his own, where the only rules that were made were his, where everything could be...him.

But this was not how he envisioned it. This darkness had a terrible, heavy sort of garish feel and it was _cold, _colder than liquid nitrogen running through his veins. He had never wanted his own little utopia of black to be so...so _painful._ The feeling of cold was so intense that his feet began to meld themselves to the floor of this dark, dark place. He wanted to move, but he figured soon enough that he was strapped down to the floor, some unknown force holding him down against the freezing floor. He was now, simply put by his accelerated breathing and heartbeat, plus the whites of his eyes seeming to disappear, terrified.

Feelings of terror? _Feelings?_

He didn't dwell on that thought. He wanted out, out of this infernal dark. He pushed with something of some newfound strength and pushed hard against his invisible shackles. The shackles, whatever they really were, seemed to creak and crack as he forced upward, so he did it again. This time, one of them didn't just come loose, but he felt some of his senses return. He could hear people talking in desperation in the background, he felt something warm and fleshy pushing down hard on his arms in attempt to keep him in one spot. And that disgusting odor...it was simply awful, like a corpse people had continued to drag through their lives and do everything with to the point where it was completely decomposed and they stank like rotting flesh.

He tugged on this last restraint. Hard. Very, very, _extremely_ hard.

When he heard the loud _SNAP_ of the restraints, whatever they were, followed by the _THUMP_ of two large, soft otherkin of some kind colliding against something hard, he experienced a wonderful, terrifying sensation: his senses returning so quickly and all at once. It was like somebody had bored into his head and was trying to fit a boulder the size of a skyscraper into it with a massive hammer as the only sort of tool for getting it in there. His head was _pounding_, if you'll excuse the obviously placed adjective.

"Nngaghhh...whatisgoingonherewhereamiwhoareyouwhatisthisplace...." His speech was slurred by this extreme dizziness and pain, and he could feel some sort of liquid dripping down his face. It tasted watery, and he had just figured how...thirsty he felt. He drank this liquid without any sort of consideration as to exactly _what it was, _but it tasted fine. Who cared?

"So soon to wake, my little perfection. I'd never think you'd turn out this well..." came a voice, although warm and gentle out front, sounded much deeper and mysterious to Felix.

"Aizen-sama...are you certain forcing a _vasto lorde_, especially of his caliber...." came another, this one serious and business-like. No sort of deepness was in this one; simply a serious – insane, perhaps? - voice.

"He has no memory of his time of a _lorde_. I am certain he will make a wondrous experiment for the artificial _espada_." The warm voice paused here to obviously shift something, as Felix could hear and see through his blurry vision and impaired hearing. "But he is not ready. Not yet. Tousen and Gin would kill him before he would get the chance to grow. I will give him to Neliel."

"...I see. Are you certain, Aizen-sama? Because I could train him into-" Began the serious sounding voice but the gentler voice cut it off, this time much more commanding.

"Into what, Szayel? A cold, ruthless logician? Neliel teaches better things than that. I certainly wish you would learn from her..."

"Neliel? Feh. The only thing that she teaches are the younger Numeros how to release their sexual urges, that fucking who-"

A loud, violent crash that seemed to cause the ground next to Felix to vibrate cut off the slander of whoever this 'Neliel' was. His guess was simple: somebody better than the slanderer.

"Learn to control your emotions and your untiring hatred for your betters, Szayel. Starting with Neliel and her new Fraccion."

With nothing left to keep him from doing so, Felix fell into the world of the dreaming.


End file.
